


PTA Mom-Off

by exultantStardust (mintsaway)



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Bake Sales, F/M, Mom Toriel, PTA au, Post-Pacifist Route, pta, this is just a self indulgent drabble tbh, toriel has a foul mouth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-09
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-05-05 21:40:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5391356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mintsaway/pseuds/exultantStardust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Helen better watch her fucking back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	PTA Mom-Off

**Author's Note:**

> So apparently toby made some tweets about toriel swearing when she's not around frisk and ofc i had to make a ficlet out of it. Helen is that one pta mom who thinks she runs the whole world. You know the one.

“Goodbye my child, have a good day at school today,” Toriel called to Frisk as the sixth grader climbed on the bus, waving at their momster as it rode away.

 

Once the bus was out of site Toriel went back inside to begin baking her famous butterscotch-cinnamon pies for the PTA bake sale the next day. She planned to make several for the event, as she learned last time that they were quite popular, and went fast.

 

She spent the day happily preparing the pies and taking orders for her small home-run bakery business. At noon Sans came by to “help” her bake, and by the time Frisk came home from school Toriel was nearly done with the pies. The last one was nearly ready to come out of the oven when the door creaked open.

 

“How was school sweetheart?” Toriel asked as Frisk shrugged off their Wonder Woman backpack.

 

As soon as it was off the child launched into a long ramble of hand signs about how they’d saved a seventh grader from a few bullies and how the school cafeteria food still couldn’t compare to Toriel’s home cooking.

 

The tall goat monster smiled gently as she handed Frisk a small slice of the warm up pie she’d made that morning. They stood and swapped stories from the day while Toriel made dinner, and when it was time for Frisk to go to bed, Toriel tucked them in and flipped off the lights in the young child’s bedroom.

 

“That bitch better get ready to eat my dust tomorrow,” Toriel muttered bitterly as she packed up the pies for the next day.

 

The next morning Toriel woke to the soft beeping of her alarm clock. She groaned and rolled over, pulling her blankets over her head for a moment, and sat up.

 

“Fuck,” she murmured as one caught on her horn, and she accidentally tangled herself up in the sheets trying to free herself.

 

Once she’d been released from her soft, fuzzy prison she stood and pulled out a smart outfit for the bake sale. A purple pencil skirt, a cream blouse, and a grey cardigan, paired with her favorite pair of reading glasses, which she seemed to need more and more often lately.

 

When she was dressed she walked across the hall and knocked softly on Frisk’s door.

 

“Good morning my child, it’s time to wake up,” She called, and soon heard the tell tale rustling of Frisk waking up. An hour later and they were both ready to leave for the bake sale.

  


* * *

  


Frisk helped Toriel carry in the pies she’d made before running off to find their friends wish a warm kiss on the top of the head from their momster.

 

“Kind of a shame they still can’t go anywhere without a kiss from mommy even in sixth grade,” Came a nasally, high pitched voice from behind Toriel as Frisk disappeared around the corner.

 

“What was that Helen? I was busy thinking about how short the average human lifespan is. You’re nearing forty aren’t you? Goodie, you’re almost there,” Toriel replied in a calm, even voice as she turned around.

 

Helen stood stock still, mouth hanging open, and a look of clear shock on her tight features. One of the other momsters snickered behind her paw. Satisfied, Toriel went back to unpacking her pies.

 

An hour into the bake sale Toriel felt a pair of bony hands cover her eyes.

 

“Guess who?” Came a deep, gravely voice.

 

Toriel giggled and shrugged the hands off, turning around to plant a soft kiss of the offending skeleton’s cheekbone.

 

“Sans, What are you doing here? I thought you had work,” She said, and the short monster simply grinned and shrugged.

 

“Well I did, but it seemed my station was occu- _pie_ -d,” Sans chuckled, and the other mothers groaned.

 

“Toriel, who is… _this?_ ” Helen asked, clear distaste in her voice.

 

Sans turned and stuck his hand out.

           

"Hey, I’m Sans, Tori’s boyfriend. Nice t’ meet ya,” He said, a threatening edge in his voice as Helen shook his hand.

 

“So, why haven’t we met your…friend…yet Toriel?” Helen’s voice seemed uneasy, but the question came out all the same.

 

“Because I respect him Helen,” Toriel deadpanned, and Sans let out a low whistle.

 

The bake sale carried on without incident until they were packing up. Sans had bought one of Toriel’s pies and a few of Helen’s cookies, giving her an almost dangerous look as he did so.

 

“I don’t know why anyone buys these things; my son could do a better job,” Helen muttered as she watched Toriel put away the remaining pies.

 

“Oh I’m sorry Helen, are we bringing our children into this now? Because I know you wouldn’t dare try to compare my Frisk to your son. After all, my child liberated an entire species before the age of ten. What has your son ever done?”

 

Helen opened her mouth to retaliate, but Toriel cut her off.

 

"No Helen, for once in your godforsaken life, shut the fuck up. You and your bullshit store bought cookies. That’s right, we all know. The other’s won’t say anything because you’re the president, but really, have some integrity you cheating bitch.” Toriel’s voice was polite and clipped when she spoke, and she wore a warm smile with her words, the kind of smile she’d give Frisk when seeing them off for school.

 

Helen fumed.

 

“What the _hell_ did you just say to me you _beast?_ Have you forgotten who I am? I am the president of this PTA; my husband is the president of this school. I could have your freak of a child expelled for that! And how _dare_ you insinuate that I am unfaithful to my Richard you monster cunt!” Helen all but screeched, as Frisk rounded the corner again.

 

The young human’s eyebrows shot up below their bangs, and their mouth hung open at the words. They’d never heard half of those words before. They didn’t even know what most of them meant.

 

“Oh now you’ve really done it,” Toriel whispered as they ushered Frisk down the hallway, wrapping a protective arm around them.

 

“Don’t you _ever_ speak of my Frisk like that or I swear to the gods the back of Mr. Cunningham’s Benz will be far from the most uncomfortable position you’ve been in,” The woman spat.  


  


"If you so much as look at my child the wrong way I will make sure you deeply regret it, do you understand me?”

  


Helen nodded mutely, barely masked fear muddling her plastic face.

  


With that Toriel picked Frisk up, resting them against her hip, and walked out of the school.


End file.
